


digital break down

by isloremipsumafterall



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:09:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2757320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isloremipsumafterall/pseuds/isloremipsumafterall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cheesy hold music reminiscent of bad porn comes over the line and Fitz stares at his cell phone wondering if it’s too late to hang up and chalk this to some bad hungover dream.</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>the one where Fitz dials a sex hotline</p>
            </blockquote>





	digital break down

This is all Lance’s fault.

Partially his own for taking Lance’s advice, but mostly Lance’s fault.

“You’re backed up mate, think you need some relief is all before you explode or something.” Lance had winked, pressing the piece of paper with a number scribbled on it and walking away.

He let the piece of paper sit on his desk, not paying attention to it at all until the weekend where he’d gotten a bit buzzed with alcohol (again, Lance’s fault but also Skye’s) and it caught his eyes, remembering Lance’s words.

It’s probably just Lance’s idea of a joke anyway but he’s a little surprised when a voice comes over the other end.

“Tahiti pleasure line, could I get your information please?”

“Uh…” Fitz’s brain can’t comprehend what’s going on with the alcohol and he thought maybe it would just go to a fake number or one of Lance’s exes or something.

“Sir? In order to help you I need the name you’d like to be called credit card.”

He doesn’t want to keep the person on the other end waiting, blames it on his mother instilling some form of manners on him and rattles everything off, including his first name which he’s betting he’ll regret.

“Thank you, now did you want fun, frisky, or flirty tonight?”

He blinks, “You don’t…do the thing?”

“No sir, I’m just the receptionist. Fun, frisky, or flirty?”

“Fun?” He just latches on to the first choice and tries not to sound so hesitant.

“One moment please.”

Cheesy hold music reminiscent of bad porn comes over the line and Fitz stares at his cell phone wondering if it’s too late to hang up and chalk this to some bad hungover dream when a voice comes over the other line.

“So how can I be of service to you today, _Leopold_.” A smooth voice comes over the other side, stressing his name like it’s something to hold in your mouth and savor, and masculine.

Very very masculine.

“I didn’t mean to give my first name, I – you’re not a girl.”

What’s Lance doing with a phone number for a hotline like this?

“I assuredly am not.” The voice replies bemused. “Don’t tell me you called the wrong hotline and I’m about to be missing out on a client.”

“I dunno. I might have.” Lance’s sevens do sometimes look like ones and squinting at the piece of paper in his hands he realizes he might have in fact read it wrong.

Or Lance has gotten smart enough to figure out that Fitz is no longer crushing on Jemma and has in fact taken interest in the older student in his engineering class, the one who grins at him every time he gets a right answer, always looking at Fitz with amusement.

All he knows about him is that his name is Trip and he shares a biology class with Jemma and that looks amazing, dark skin, long legs, and he’s seen the lean muscles under his shirt when the other man raises his hand to ask something in class.

“Might have? Either that or you just don’t wanna admit you were looking for me hunh?”

“I wasn’t looking for you! I was looking for…for…”

“A bit of fun?”

“Yes. That.” He nods though the person can’t see it.

Laughter spills across from the other side of the phone and Fitz can’t help but think it’s a nice laugh, deep and genuinely amused by him. Normally he might be insulted by that but the alcohol in his system relaxes him.

“Now fun I can deliver.” The voice promise. “You just gotta lay on back and enjoy the ride, s’gonna be nice and easy, _Leopold_.”

There’s just something about the voice that has Fitz on edge like he’s never been before, he lets out a noise of protest at his name again but still feels goosebumps raising on his arms at the way the person says it.

“Hey we’re just getting started here.” He just knows that the man on the other line is smiling. “Just take a deep breath and undo the button of your jeans.”

He does, awkwardly with his one hand not wanting to drop his phone.

“Lower the zipper down slowly,” The man chuckles when he hears the noise of the zipper, Fitz completely ignoring his advice and puling it down fast. “Little quick there but all right, supposed you know what to do next?”

“Get off hopefully.” He mumbles while trying to simultaneously slide his pants off.

Laughter comes over the speaker of his phone again, “We’ll get you there. Bet you’re just in, what is it, boxers or briefs? Strike me as more a boxer’s guy.”

“Does it really matter?” He refrains from rolling his eyes though not by much.

“Trying to ruin your appeal here, _Leopold_?”

“I thought I was the one meant to get off not you.” He argues back and sulks a bit because he’s lying in his bedroom without any pants, talking to someone he doesn’t know over the phone and they’re teasing him and he really wishes the man would stop saying his name like that.

“Got important things to do yet.” He doesn’t really mean it when he says that and there’s silence over the other end and for a second he thinks he might have insulted the guy.

“What do you do?”

Fitz blinks, taken aback by that, “Student, majoring in physics and engineering.”

“Bet you’re real good with your hands then.”

“Have to be.”

“I’m pretty good with my hands myself. Got these long deft fingers or so I’m told, if I was there I could show you, slick them up and wrap them around your dick to get you just a little bit hard.”

“Christ.” Fitz swears, his dick jumping at the sudden idea of it. He has no idea what this man even looks like but his voice dropping like that and saying those things has Fitz flushing at the imagery it conjures in his head, unbidden his mind conjures Trip with his bright smile and a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Got your attention there didn’t I?”

“Maybe.” He lies through his teeth.

“Any lotion nearby?”

A glance over at the night stand confirms that there is some. “Yes.”

“Good, now you’re either going to want to put me on speaker phone or do some fancy hand work here. But I bet you could manage it.” The voice is smug, like he’s issuing a challenge.

Fitz can’t help but take him up on it, reaching over and knocking things off his night stand as he squeezes some of the lotion onto his hand.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to reach down and touch yourself for me, slowly this time, not fast like before. Just slide your hand down and picture it’s someone you like holding you, all his attention focused directly on you and the way you bite your lip the second he touches you, already so hard for him.”

He hates that voice because it’s like the man is reading his mind, his hand stroking his cock slowly and imagining it’s Trip’s, so dark against his pale skin and sliding up and down, watching Fitz with darkened eyes.

He can’t help but bite down on his lip so he doesn’t cry out.

It doesn’t work and there’s a deep chuckle from over the phone, lower than before and it could be that the other man isn’t as unaffected by this as he’s acting.

“Someone’s really got you hot and bothered. Must be lucky to land someone like you.”

“I could be unattractive for all you know.”

“Betting you’re not. Accent must help you, people love accents.”

“Do you?”

“I’m partial to Scots.” The man says nonchalantly and Fitz nearly bites his tongue at that.

The whole time he’s been getting harder, hips rocking to meet his hand and his breath is coming out heavier than before.

“Very funny.” He grunts, head falling back.

“You must be hard by now, probably just need to think of someone pressing a hand to your chest, weight against yours and keeping you down as you try to get some friction right? Just so close to coming.”

He whines low in the back of his throat at the image, screws his eyes shut and feels the plastic creak under his hand as he clutches his phone.

“Have to get you all decked out with markings, you’re what? Probably pale as a ghost, need some colour on your skin to make everyone see you’re theirs.” The voice teases.

His hand loses the rhythm he’d created, bucking into it with a cry and his stomach tightens, so close to the edge he can practically taste it.

“I think you could come right about now, _Leopold_.”

All he can see is Trip’s grin and matches the voice to it, a deadly combination that sends him tilting over the edge and spilling into his hand with Trip’s name being cried out.

Silence meets him from the other end as he comes back down, panting in the now stifling hot air of the room.

“Hm.” The man makes a noise from the back of his throat. “Was not expecting that.”

“What?” His blissed out mind can’t quite understand what it is the other man’s not expecting.

“Never mind. Just think I got my white whale is all.”

White whale?

“Let’s call this one a freebie and you a satisfied customer.”

“All right.” Fitz yawns, “All right.”

The mixture of alcohol with the endorphins running in his system now are making him crash but something keeps pulling at the back of his mind curiously.

“What’s your name?” He asks, idly thinking he might call again for some fun.

There’s a pause on the other line.

“Antoine.”

Fitz snorts. “I thought Leopold was bad.”

“It is.”

“Hey.” He protests but breaks off into a yawn again.

“I can’t hang up till you do.” Antoine prompts, quiet now. “Think you’re about to fall asleep.”

“Hm.” Fitz agrees, “Okay.”

He doesn’t want to, finger hovering over the end call button but ultimately knows that he can’t keep Antoine on the line, hanging up and hoping he remembers the name in the morning.

As he falls asleep though it’s washed away, leaving just a voice whispering things into his ear and images of Trip dancing in his dreams.

~~

“Need a partner?”

Fitz must be more tired than he thought, jerking up with eyes wide and wondering why he hears the voice from last night.

Looking over however he just sees Trip, standing there looking down at him with one of those bright smiles.

“I –sure.” Fitz moves his bag, letting Trip sit down.

“You look tired. Rough night?” Trip suddenly smirks. “Or a really good one?”

The idea of telling Trip about having a really good night has him turning bright red because invariably Fitz would end up also explaining that Trip was involved somehow.

“No. Nope. Just out with friends, that’s all.” He fiddles with the chip in front of them and glances over at Trip. “How was your night?”

“Pretty good.” Trip leans in, voice dropping to a whisper. “Had a customer call in last night that I knew. Don’t think he recognized me though and wasn’t gonna tell him ‘cept weirdly he called out my name.”

It takes a second but Fitz freezes, staring at Trip.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” Trip grins widely and Fitz groans, burying his face in his hands.

“Can we never talk about this?”

“I was going to ask for a repeat performance with a lot less clothes and lot more in person but if you don’t want to…”

“I want to.” Fitz shoots up, looking over at Trip and wetting his lips. “Tonight?”

“I’m free if you are.”

He nods, head bopping and gets another flash of Trip’s grin before he reaches out to kiss the other man, only hesitating when he’s a hairsbreadth away.

Trip must decide to take pity on him just then, laughing as he pulls Fitz the rest of the way to bridge the gap between them for an open mouth kiss that’s better than he could ever imagine before.


End file.
